Tag: culture

Life In Community

On By Allan GrantIn faith, life, travel9 Comments
The Mosbach team outside the mill building, May 1983
(Yes I am in there somewhere!)

It was at the end of July 1982 that I arrived in what was then West Germany. Coming from the Middle East where I had been representing the ship MV Logos in line up. My destination was the town of Mosbach in Baden Württemburg. It was to join the Operation Mobilisation (OM) Ships headquarters team that was based there. At that time OM owned and operated another ship, the Doulos. The HQ served to coordinate the activities and needs of both these vessels. Some 40+ years later it still serves that purpose though the vessels have changed. HQ staff included marine engineers, deck officers, personnel and finance people. Also others like myself who didn’t fit in to a specific category. I came not knowing how long my stay would be. This was in keeping with my peripatetic life at that time. In the event Mosbach became my home for over a year. 

Perhaps against expectations for a HQ overseeing 2 ocean going ships Mosbach was inland. Nowhere near a port or the coast. However good rail and road connections meant international hubs like Frankfurt were not too far away. Along with those working to service the ships there was also another team that was part of OM Germany. Both teams worked on the same site. The buildings were part of an old mill situated beside a tributary of the river Neckar which ran through the town. During my time there there was quite a bit of renovations done, especially in the main building. As I recall the combined ships and German team, including families and children, was about 85 people. To make team life happen required cooks, cleaners, mechanics to service the pool of cars used for personal and team use. Most important and needed of all were people with servant hearts. Those who oiled the rough edges exposed by life in community.

The team consisted of singles, married couples and children. Most families lived off site but would join for team meals when possible with the rest of us. I, along with other singles, lived in the old mill building where the dining room was. My roommate for several months was a fellow Scot. 

For several years I had been part of a Christian community on the ship MV Logos. Living in the Mosbach team was another type of community. There were differences. One was floating in a confined space – mobile, with its own, autonomous shipboard culture. I had been privileged with often living onshore but for those crew mostly living onboard exposure to life in the ports and countries visited was limited. Mosbach in contrast was a land based team that was also an integral part of the town and German society. Though different, life in each type of community had common ingredients. One of the ‘common ingredients’ (no pun intended!) were meals together. Also learning to share property, resources and facilities. Such challenges would often mean the need to forgive and put others’ interests first. Not easy.

The OM Ships Director had asked if I would come to Mosbach and, amongst other things, help in the day to day running of this dual team. It would be very unlike my recent job of jumping from country to country representing the Logos. It was a catch all job. Everything from coordinating the team study programme to the practicalities of group team life. Most private and work related conversations were in English. However the dominant nationality was German. It was a struggle to pick up enough German. I had a crash course of 2 – one hour sessions/ week. One task was to sometimes make team announcements at lunchtime. They were usually done in German. This I find astonishing to believe. Nowadays I can hardly think to string more than a few German words together. 

Another role was to take church meetings throughout the country. This was usually to share about the work and vision of OM Ships. Encouraging people to pray for our worldwide work as well as trusting that the meetings would bring in recruits and resources. 

“In recent months in Germany it has been a privilege to take part in church and youth meetings in the countryside. Last weekend a team of four of us visited a Lutheran church in a small village called ‘Geroldsgrun’. It was thrilling to see how the youth (aged 14-30) were interested in serving the Lord. A sobering experience was to visit the nearby East German border and to be reminded of the realities of the ‘ Iron Curtain’. The border ran right through the middle of a village and on the East German (DDR) side a huge placard read ‘USSR and DDR united for all time’.
How grateful I am to be free.”

Extract from a letter to friends, Jan 1983

Strangely, I remember more about going to and from meetings than the meetings themselves. We would at times travel maybe 300km just to go to an evening event. Then return back to base in Mosbach that same evening. Made possible by the fact that West Germany had a superb autobahn (motorway) system. At that time most people seemed to drive on the autobahn as fast as your vehicle could safely travel. The upper speed limit didn’t seem to be defined. This apparent recklessness was mitigated by terrific discipline for when there was signed speed limits. That is, if the autobahn stated 100 kilometres/ hour (kph) speed limit people would drive at that speed. Another ‘safety’ feature was wide lanes. 2 lanes seemed as wide as 3 on a UK motorway. Made overtaking much easier and safer. However there was also strict lane discipline. The outside overtaking lane was only for overtaking. Not for cruising along! It was dangerous to ‘loiter’ in the outer lane at, say, 130kph. Watch out for that headlighted Porsche, a mere dot in your rear screen mirror. It would likely be right behind you in seconds going well over 200kph!

When not on the autobahn it was often a pleasure to travel more sedately through well kept villages. Their presence often heralded by the ubiquitous village church spire piercing the horizon. Between the communities lots of arable and green fields.   

Meetings had been arranged for us with ‘old’ folks, young folks and everyone in between. It was a blessing to see the great interest in international Christian work. It was also a joy to breathe the rather ‘fresh’ Alpine air. We stayed at a Christian work which had an orphanage, a home for alcoholics and a home for those with Down’s syndrome. It was a touching work of compassion founded by an Italian Countess.

Extract of a Mar 1983 report to friends about a week’s visit to south Austria.

Travelling to meetings wasn’t all about the driving. Coming home to Mosbach late at night it was nice to stop at highway restaurants and partake of ‘Weiner Schnitzel’ – a breaded meat cutlet. Speaking of food, another nice German tradition was a relaxed Sunday afternoon coffee and cake. Usually in conjunction with a walk in the countryside or in the forest. Sundays in those days were relatively quiet. Heavy goods vehicles were not allowed to travel on the autobahn on Sundays. Each state or municipality had different rules as to what you could or could not do on certain days. Some areas forbade washing cars whereas in others it was permitted. Whatever, it made Sundays generally a peaceful day of rest which I appreciated. 

Given the town’s strategic location at the heart of Europe the team at Mosbach was often hosting members of the worldwide team of OMers. They would pass through from all points of the compass. Sometimes we had over 100 visitors / month. 

Another role I had been assigned was to help an Argentinian colleague. Spend time with him, share life, help him with his English. It is encouraging to know that he went on to fulfil major leadership roles with the church in South America. 

I am grateful to the Germans I came to know. Their great strengths of collective and individual discipline. To share life with devoted, hard working and servant hearted people. Practically showing their love for Jesus by their service. It wasn’t all roses. As with any group of people there were misunderstandings and disunity. To pretend otherwise would be false. However I know I received more than I gave.

40 years later times have moved on. Mega events such as the healing brought about by the fall of the Berlin Wall and German reunification. Also the disturbing recent geopolitical realities of a war in Europe. I and those with whom I shared life with then have also changed and moved on. What hasn’t changed is that nowadays, as then, the personal call is to live in hope. Like Abraham…

“For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God”.

Hebrews Ch 11 verse 10 (New International Version)

Towards the end of my stay a certain Elisabeth came from Sweden to visit. It’s a long story.

A Bigger Picture

On By Allan GrantIn faith, life, travel5 Comments
Dunes

Several of my blogs concern a role I once had which was commonly known as ‘line up’. Briefly the job involved making all manner of preparations (‘line up’) required for the floating bookship MV Logos to visit ports. The vessel was crewed by a diverse group of 140 volunteers from 25 nations. It was owned and operated by an international Christian organisation. Click this tag ‘line up’ if wish to read other blogs which concern this role. 

In the following story the main character is LUM (‘line up man’ ). 

LUM had had some previous experience lining up for the ship in a number of ports in various countries. He had now been asked to get involved in another country and port. It would mean a new culture, foods and people. An enriching learning experience to which he was looking forward to. That the country was in a state of emergency due to recent happenings did not seem to figure much in his thinking. In retrospect perhaps this should have been considered more.

Once he arrived in the country LUM was partly based in the capital city trying to secure government permissions for the ship to come. This included getting access for the general public to come onboard. However he still had to make fairly regular trips to the coastal city where the ship was due to visit. This involved some hours bus ride through the desert. Endless sand dunes piled like waves in the sea. Sunglasses were essential. Sometimes needing pain killers to ease headaches from the bright light. Usually there was one stop in the middle of nowhere in particular. Most passengers then piled out to follow the call to prayer. It was a dramatic scene to watch. People bowing down on their prayer mats in the desert. 

Just getting into the port authority area took half a day as various passes were required. Many dealings such as this seemed to take much time. As far as passes were concerned they also needed renewing every week. Slowly LUM awakened to the fact that most things could get done much quicker by ‘greasing the palm’ of whoever was in authority. This way of getting business done seemed to reach into every service required. There were also times when both officials and other contacts changed their minds. Sometimes people were very positive about the ship coming. On other occasions the same people were, at best, ambivalent. LUM was told that on a previous visit of the ship a number of officials were annoyed by not being ‘rewarded’ enough. Maybe this explained the fluid nature of some people’s views. Asking for written permission for things was not always straightforward. LUM recalls offending one official by pressing for more than verbal assurances. Did not LUM see that he (the official) was an honourable man? That his word could be trusted.

This period in LUM’S life was in the days long before mobile phones. You could spend half a day or whole evening trying to make an international phone call. First of all you had to visit the telephone exchange. Then fill in a form to book the number and destination country with the operator. Then wait, and wait, much like you might in a doctor’s surgery. Eventually the operator beckoned you to go into a booth. At last you would be put through. 

As with port entry the process of phoning might be speeded up if extra money was involved. For LUM it presented a moral dilemma. It seemed that for large parts of the economy people in jobs were paid very poorly. In order to make a living there was an expectation that a job would also be an opportunity to get tips. When does a tip become a bribe? 

LUM’s time in the country coincided with the annual fasting period of the majority religion. He felt awkward not abstaining from food or drink during the day when most of the population was doing so. There is something about eating that is a communal and shared activity. He felt very antisocial eating out in public when others were not able to eat. Once he recalls eating in a restaurant in the early evening. Everyone else was sitting at table with untouched glasses of water. All patiently waiting for the signal when the day’s fast would be over. For LUM it was not pleasant to have a roomful of hungry, perhaps resentful, eyes watching him eat. He concluded it would be better to avoid such embarrassments and eat at more suitable times. 

Due to security issues the contact LUM had with colleagues living long-term in the country was very limited. LUM felt quite isolated. Any engagement with others often meant surreptitiously visiting houses. Usually one by one entering and leaving at widely separated times. Done ostensibly so as not to arouse suspicion. LUM was not sure such precautions meant much. On one occasion a colleague living in the country pointed to an apparently crippled beggar. He was sitting on the ground across the road from the house they were meeting in. LUM’s colleague said the man was often there. At the end of the day he would leave and walk away. His lameness miraculously healed. LUM was told the ‘beggar’ was employed to watch their house and report on comings and goings. Probably any precautions taken pandered more to the need to feel careful. 

Maybe LUM had led a sheltered life but one unpleasant experience was the awareness of being followed. One occasion whilst out walking comes to his mind. It was chilling to look over his shoulder and keep seeing the same person behind him. To confirm he was being followed he took random turns through the streets. Yes it was same person some distance behind. Whether LUM was slow or fast or whichever way he turned LUM appeared to be shadowed. Strangely once LUM accepted he was being followed he put it out of his mind.

After a number of weeks preparations the ship was due to come. Due to other commitments LUM had to leave the country some days before the actual arrival. However all preparations seemed to be in order. Other line up people had come and they would be around for the ship’s visit. 

The ship duly arrived in the port and the gangway lowered in anticipation of being open to locals. Within just a few hours the shipping agent gave a distressing message. He said the vessel had to leave port immediately and anchor in international waters. Apparently there was a threat. What really was going on LUM has never come to understand. The door to stay was firmly closed. What was clear was that the ship had nowhere to go for weeks with a crew of 140 sitting many miles offshore.

For LUM personally it was also disconcerting that several of the foreigners he had contact with were deported shortly after. 

This crisis of a ship with nowhere to go opened an unforeseen opportunity. In a matter of days a colleague was able to get permission for the ship to visit another place. Somewhere that up till then had not been thought possible.

Many years later LUM reflects on this whole experience. He believes there is a bigger picture. Behind well intentioned plans that seem to come to nothing God is working out his purposes.

The Big Picture** by Elisabeth Grant

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭8‬:‭28‬ ‭NIVUK‬‬

** elisabethgrantart.com

Endings and Beginnings

On By Allan GrantIn faith, life, travel12 Comments
Cherry blossom

After 2 years in Japan my wife and I felt our time there was coming to an end. Our task had been to represent Operation Mobilisation (OM) in the country. OM was the Christian organisation we worked for. The work engaged us with people, churches and other groups throughout the land.

We also spent time with Japanese of many ages and backgrounds through teaching English. The cost of living compared to Europe was very high so we needed the extra income. It was an opportunity to meet and engage meaningfully with people we would not ordinarily meet. I have written a bit more about this in Japan – Anyone for English

Our commitment to working in Japan was coming to an end. The thinking was that we would establish some things but then hand over the work to Japanese and others who would lead the work longer term. Other groups with more experience had said it was difficult for a westerner over 30 to master the language. We had therefore decided when we first went to think of a 2 year commitment. And so it was. We then passed on the baton, as it were, to others to develop things further. It is heartening today to see how the work there has grown over the years. It was a privilege to be a part of the story. There had been challenges and difficulties. Our main memory though was of an enriching, rewarding time which we look back on fondly.  

On the practical side we either sold or gave away most things. One family kindly took us for a night to a spa hotel in the mountains which was a real refreshment when our home became very primitive (i.e. no chairs, tables or bed!). It also reminded us that there are places of solitude and quiet in Japan! Our last few days in Nagano were enjoyably spent in our landlady’s home…May 10th, the day of our departure, came. Tears were shed. It had been one of the hardest times of our lives but these thoughts were lost in an overwhelming sense of God’s grace. Left to ourselves we’d have left prematurely. He had taken us through the difficulties and given the strength to persevere when all seemed lost. We were able to leave with a sense that God’s hand would continue to be on what we had been initiating. Japanese were becoming more involved which had long been our prayer. We know not when or if we can visit these distant shores again but we do know that we have left a part of our lives there. It seems that in God’s work our hearts often seem to be broken only to be mended and enlarged again. —Extract from letter to friends Sept 1994.

Our next steps after leaving were uncertain. Initial plan was to return to Europe. Then probably settle in either of our home countries, Sweden or the UK. Flying in to London in the spring of 1994 felt a little strange. We had got used to crowded living. It sounds strange now but flying from Tokyo to London seemed like being transported to a rural idyll. So much less traffic and far fewer crowds of people. From the air at least there seemed plenty green fields. So much space! It definitely felt less stressed. 

On our initial return we were part of a 10 day leadership course held by our organisation. It took place in West Watch, a country house on the outskirts of London. There were 11 of us, a comfortable number. Most participants we knew from previous times on MV Logos, India and Europe. A very welcome time of renewing friendships, spiritual refreshment and learning. It was just what we needed – a kind of buffer as we reoriented back to the west. 

We then spent the summer of ‘94 with each of our families in Sweden and the UK. All the time wondering what our next steps would be. Changing environment was nothing new but was still not easy. It was one thing as a single person to live a somewhat itinerant lifestyle. To sustain that as a couple was different

My 17 years with OM had taken me to live and work in about 70 countries. The last ten of those years was as a married couple. When we left Japan my wife and I had lived in 8 homes on 3 continents. We had experienced many blessings. Absolutely no regrets. However as the Bible says ‘there is a time for everything**’. We needed some stability. Moving home as well as adjusting to a new country or culture takes up much energy. Maybe it was our time to be more settled. 

In September we attended OM’s annual conference looking for fresh direction and inspiration. None came. Sometimes doors close. There were several possibilities within our organisation (at one point 12!) but none seemed right. We took it as a signal to step into a new time of life.

Sometimes the way ahead is not clear

In one sense this was saying goodbye to a way of life we had become accustomed to. Also it was a farewell to many colleagues around the world we had come to know over the years. However in another way our commom faith in Jesus’ promises meant there would be no permanent goodbyes. Bonds formed through working together for a common purpose would remain. A precious hope that transcends time and our life circumstances. 

So in the autumn of 1994 we moved to Scotland. We had no direction as to what to do next or where to live. An uncertain, difficult time. For the first time in 5 months we stayed on our own for 2 weeks, house sitting for a couple on holiday.

It was around then that a couple we were friends with got in touch. They had been supporting us in our work with OM. He was a trustee with Prison Fellowship Scotland. Would I be interested in working with prisoners, ex-offenders and their families? Wow, that certainly came as a bolt from the blue. Up till then I had virtually no experience of this kind of work. My initial reaction was no. I was still emotionally attached to OM. However after a short time realised that this was the next step. Another friend arranged for a flat we could initially stay in. It was the beginning of a new chapter in life, work and home for both of us. Maybe the subject of a future blog.

** Ecclesiastes 3 verse 1a

A Thread Runs Through It

On By Allan GrantIn faith, life, travel9 Comments

From 1990-92 my wife Elisabeth and I lived in Sweden. We moved from the UK and ‘the idea’ was to be settled for a while in my wife’s homeland. By living in the country I would hopefully improve on my Swedish and get to know her family and background. With over 30 years of hindsight ‘the idea’ looks to us like something that fitted into place. A part of some pre-planned progressive journey through life. In reality at the time we didn’t know where this was leading. We had no idea that it would be for 2 years, we didn’t know that this would subsequently lead on to us going to Japan for 2 years.

Maybe it is an illusion to look back and think we can see life fitting together like some sort of jigsaw. It is a comfort to me to know that Abraham, a man of faith, when called from the familiar “went without knowing where he was going”. Hebrews 11 vs 8.

My wife’s family had a business that was in its 3rd generation of making shirts. Her grandmother had started the business in her kitchen. I was amazed to discover how family chats with Elisabeth’s siblings could go on for hours where they would passionately discuss the finer points of shirt collars, cuffs and various types of fabric. Cotton and linen most definitely in and nylon or polyester totally out of the picture.

The family took great care and pride in the quality of its product. A company motto was ‘The bitterness of poor quality remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten’. It challenged my more pragmatic and pseudo utilitarian approach to things. Their approach bore fruit and the firm had an international distribution network selling to the most prestigious retailers. 

To pay the bills I got a job in the shirt factory as a warehouseman. It certainly was a steep learning curve learning the many variations of shirt. This was in the days of not so much automation. Every order hand picked from shelves and packed in boxes. To avoid time and effort roaming around the aisles of shirts you needed to remember where things were. The latest seasonal collection, the various collar types, sizes and colour ranges. Short arm, long arm, business, recreational etc. I was helped by two long term staff who had decades of experience.

None of the staff spoke English so I was immersed in Swedish. To add to the linguistic intensity Swedish national radio was played factory wide all day. All good you might say. One of my work colleagues however had a very strong local dialect and she was given to using slang words. I was duly corrected by Elisabeth if too much influenced. I also needed to be careful when a certain delivery driver would call to pick up consignments. Every second word it seemed was a swear word. He wasn’t the best tutor.

There was a very stable workforce and a few had even worked there 50 years. Living in the surrounding villages most also knew one another outside of work. Whether it was in church, community or sports clubs people’s lives seemed integrated with one another. I now live in a large city where anonymity is prevalent. There is an attraction to the idea of community that village or small town life appear to engender. Perhaps that is another illusion!

The factory work routine was similar most days. Occasionally though there was a need for an urgent delivery of shirts. The job would involve driving a car or van load of shirts north to somewhere in central Sweden.

It was an adventure to take off into what for me were unexplored parts of this large and scarcely populated country. Especially in the cold of winter it was special to traverse great swathes of forest. The stark, still beauty of a winter wonderland. The wonderful pallet of deepening blue as the weak sun sets through the trees. And yes the solitude. Stopping for coffee in a remote countryside café and practicing my fledgling Swedish was the ‘icing on the cake’. No pun intended but coffee usually goes with cake in Sweden and is called ‘fika’. 

Sunset over Lake Sämsjön

These journeys were not all serene as also needed to keep an eye out for elk (moose) crossing the road. There was the danger of maiming or killing the animals. Their large weight and size could also do serious damage to a vehicle.

Swedish employment laws were generous so as a foreigner I had the right to some paid time off each week to study Swedish formally. My learning included attending an adult education centre in the town. The people in my class of about 20 consisted mainly of political refugees from lands that most other western countries did not give asylum to. A second category were people of Finnish descent whose families had migrated after the 2nd World War. Despite many years in Sweden or even being born there some spoke poor Swedish and wanted to improve. And then there was me, an outlier. I seemed to be the only one who hadn’t experienced political oppression or family migration through war. 

What struck me most about the class was how small the world can seem to be at times. One lady remembered me visiting her town in the southern Philippines several years earlier. Another Sudanese woman knew a family I knew when I stayed in Khartoum in 1982. Two connections in a random class of 20! It is said that if we could trace through all our relationships we would only be 5 or 7 people away from anyone in the world.

Day’s end.